


Performance Art

by storiesfortravellers



Category: White Collar
Genre: Communication, Established Relationship, Impotence Kink, M/M, Performance Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:05:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter/Neal slash with impotence kink. Sexually explicit language. Some angst, some humor. Written for afi for a prompt at the White Collar Swap fic exchange.</p><p>Set in the early seasons of WC. Originally published on lj.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Performance Art

The first time they talk about it, Neal had just gone down on Peter for the fifth time.

He denied any desire for reciprocation. Like always.

When he finally admitted what was going on, his eyes seemed wide and he did that thing with his chin that only Peter notices, when he tightens his jawline to prevent his face from showing a tremble. He said it almost angrily, as if he weren't sure if Peter would think less of him for not getting it up. Or if he thought maybe Peter would end it right there. Or worse, condescend to him.

Instead, Peter told him it was fine.

Absolutely fine if Neal could hardly ever get an erection, and couldn't keep one if he did, but still wanted a sexual relationship with Peter.

Neal kept asking questions until Peter admitted, embarrassed for some reason, that it worked for him.

"Why?"

Peter hesisted. Then said, "I think... I mean I guess there's some part of me that... likes it. That I'm - you know- doing something. And you don't like it."

"I do like it."

"You know what I mean."

Neal looked pensive. "You... want me to not get off on it?"

"Of course not. I mean, yes. I mean, I wouldn't insist on it if you were - but it's... it's... I would like it if we could... I mean..."

"You want to fuck me while I stay unaroused," Neal stated. Peter wasn't sure if he was being paranoid, but Neal sounded a little... concerned.

But it was a relief that he wouldn't have to be the one to say it. So Peter just answered, "Yes."

Neal looked annoyed for just a moment. But then he looked like he was about to laugh. "That was not how I was expecting this conversation to go."

"Is this... something that... um..."

"Yes. We can do that. On one condition."

"What's that?" Peter asked.

"You have to be able to talk about fucking without turning into a blushing schoolboy."

"I will work on that," Peter promised.

"Good," Neal said wryly, "I know it's difficult, but you'll just have to cowboy up."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Stop," Neal said.

Peter managed to stop thrusting, even though his body was likely plotting some revenge against his brain for it.

"Not everything. Stop with your hands," Neal said, almost exasperated.

Peter had reached around to paw at Neal's cock, but at Neal's agitated order, Peter realized then that Neal probably thought he was trying to get him off. Like Peter was arrogant enough that he thought a quick grab would make all Neal's problems disappear.

"I - it's- ummm... not what you think, Neal, um...I was -"

"Peter," Neal said, "Standing there with your dick inside me is not the appropriate time to get shy."

Neal's requirement, Peter remembered. If Peter wanted to enjoy Neal's sexual impotence, Neal wouldn't be subjected to Peter's verbal impotence. Neal really didn't like it when Peter couldn't talk about sex, for some reason.

"Sorry. Neal, I just - I'm not trying to get you off."

"Then what?"

"I wanted to - I like feeling that - you're not."

"You like - touching me when I'm -"

"Flaccid," Peter said.

"Not my favorite word!"

"Sorry."

"You picked a fine time to suddenly get explicit."

"Sorry."

"You ... like it when I don't respond to you?"

"Yes. More... uh, it's more than like. It really works for me Neal."

"You really weren't trying to get me off?"

"I really am under no illusions that I can."

Neal paused, then said, "Keep going."

With relief, Peter started again. He pushed in and out, hips moving forward and back, and when he again reached around to feel Neal's dick, Neal didn't object. Peter took it in his hand and felt its soft, smooth limpness. It felt like something fragile that Peter had to cradle in his hands, and it made Peter urgent, made him want to fuck Neal harder and harder, and as he gently squeezed Neal's unresponsive dick, he savored the sensation. It was as if Neal were giving his body to Peter just because Peter wanted him to, as if Neal were opening his body up for Peter, his flesh utterly passive to Peter's cock and Peter's hands.

It was as if _for once_ Peter could have whatever he wanted from Neal, instead of helplessly standing by while Neal hurtled recklessly toward his own desires.

It worked.

For one of them, anyway.

When Peter came, it was more intense and more luscious than anything he had felt since the first time he was with Elizabeth.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few months later, Peter asked. He should have asked sooner, but he was enjoying the benefits of it.

"So... you have some erectile issues."

Neal bristled. "They don't seem to be issues for you."

"They're not. I just - feel obligated - I mean not obligated, I just... I want to make sure there's not a medical issue that you're ignoring. I looked it up and it could be related to blood pressure or -"

"It's not physical."

"Are - are you sure?"

"Yes. I promise it's not physical."

"Okay. Do you want to -"

"I want to keep doing what we're doing."

"...Why?"

"How can you ask me that?" Neal said, and Peter could see that he wasn't even trying to hide the hurt.

"Sorry - I - sorry, Neal. I was being an ass."

Neal nodded. Like it was not news to him.

But he said, "You feel guilty. For liking it."

"Not for liking it," Peter said, "For not - I don't want to be selfish."

"You're not. Your issue complements my issue. So let's just... stay with what works."

Neal looked at him expectantly, and Peter thought for a moment how uncharacteristic this was, for Neal to suggest the status quo was the way to go.

Neal Caffrey leaving well enough alone.

But Peter was hardly in a position to criticize. And he knew by now that this was turning into one of those conversations where Peter would make accusations to get enough of a response to gather information, and then Neal would feel like he couldn't trust Peter, and then one or both of them would do something stupid. So Peter just thanked him for the conversation and reminded Neal that they were having dinner with El that night.

Neal nodded, relieved that the conversation was over.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Rub it for me," Peter asked one night.

Neal looked surprised. But then he realized, "You want to see me fail at jerking off."

"I want to see you touch yourself without getting off." A slight correction.

Neal didn't look upset, but he didn't appear to be all that thrilled either.

"I would love to watch it. That's all. If you're not comfortable, that's fine, it was just an idea," Peter said.

Neal nodded. "Okay... You might be surprised."

"Okay."

Peter watched, sitting on the bed, while Neal stood in front of him, pants around his feet, jerking off. He was gripping too hard, much harder than Peter would, and he was bending it at an angle that Peter would have assumed was uncomfortable. But to Peter's surprise, Neal's rough treatment of his own body was working.

Neal was growing larger, stiffer.

Peter stared at Neal's dick, watching it respond in ways that Peter was never able to provoke. Peter noticed that Neal's eyes were closed, as if it were easier to get there if he could pretend he was alone, and Peter started thinking about this as he stared back down at Neal's engorged cock.

But soon, Neal's body was falling back, losing that swell of need and arousal, and then Neal was pulling at a flaccid prick again, rubbing hard enough to hurt but with no response.

When Neal finally stopped, he opened his eyes and Peter could see that they were about to water. "Happy now?" Neal said, and there was a bitterness there that Peter didn't expect. But then Neal looked down to see that the less erect Neal became, the more aroused Peter became.

Neal raised an eyebrow and it was almost like a smirk. If Peter didn't know better, he'd say that Neal was turned on by Peter's reaction.

Neal slid to his knees and went to take Peter into his mouth, and as much as Peter wanted it, as hard as it was to resist, he had to ask something. He held Neal by the hair, lightly but firmly, and kept Neal's head off of him, and he tried not to think about what an incredibly counterproductive thing it was to deny that he wanted Neal's lips around him.

But he looked into Neal's surprised eyes and asked. "Neal, I know you. I know everything you did while I was chasing you. And I know this is not how you were then. I know it."

Neal looked angry then, and Peter expected it. But he also looked scared.

"You can tell me, Neal. When did this ... issue start?"

Neal smiled and it meant something else. "You want to know when so you can figure out why."

"It's not physical," Peter said, leaning on the sentence as if he could get Neal to admit the logical conclusion.

"So it's none of your business," Neal answered.

"Neal," Peter said, pleading almost.

Neal sighed. He answered, finally, "I need you to trust me. It's better that you don't know. Will you trust me?"

Peter wanted to say no. Instinct and experience told him to say no.

But in this part of their relationship, the part that had nothing to do with work, Neal had given him so much, and Peter had given him so little.

"Okay," Peter said, against his better judgment, and he sat back and thought of Neal's perfect limp cock as Neal's lips came down around him, knowing full well that Neal would take the act to mean some kind of agreement, some kind of acquiescence to Neal's silence.

But after, as they lay in bed, Neal's back leaning against Peter's chest, Peter asked again.

He couldn't help himself.

Neal responded by starting to move away but at Peter's hand on his hip, Neal yielded. He stilled.

"If I tell you, it won't be good for us," Neal said then, softly.

"Is it something that happened to you?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"... What do you want more, Peter? Me or answers?"

"False dichotomy," Peter grumbled but let the issue drop yet again. He tugged at Neal's hip and Neal complied, curling back closer into Peter's arms.

It was always like this with Neal. Peter could have anything physically, could open Neal up and take from him anything he wanted. But Peter's questions, his arguments, would roll off like water off a duck's back.

For a second, Peter wondered if Neal liked this about him. That in this one way, Peter was utterly unable to penetrate Neal.

Peter held tight then to Neal's waist, hoping that they would be all right, that he was not flying blind into something bigger and more tangled than what he signed up for.

Though of course he was. That's always how it was with Neal.


End file.
